


i love this song (i've heard it before)

by stardustandswimmingpools



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pride, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, baseball game as plot device, based on when i went to a nats game during pride month, well technically jumbotron trivia game as plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25459735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustandswimmingpools/pseuds/stardustandswimmingpools
Summary: "Excuse me?" an unfamiliar voice says. Steve picks up his head and looks at a man wearing the same shirt as him and holding a microphone. "Would you be interested in playing music mash-up during the inning break?"Steve blinks. "Me?"
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 63





	i love this song (i've heard it before)

**Author's Note:**

> this is so absurdly ridiculous omg i really dont have any excuse except i went to a nats game during pride month last summer and they were doing this Night Out at the park thing and then somehow this happened from that i don't even really know  
> title is from Give Me Your Hand (Best Song Ever) by The Ready Set because it absolutely slaps and i don't know this fic is fucking ridiculous as it is

Nat's been throwing peanut shells at Steve for the past two minutes. 

"Get off your phone," she commands. Steve ignores her. "God, why are you like every millennial? The game's up here, sweetheart."

"Nat, cut it out," Steve says without heat.

"Yeah, Nat," Sam chimes in. "The man's a lost cause. Stop making a mess."

Nat throws a peanut shell at Sam. "Don't enable him."

"I'm checking my email!" Steve protests half-heartedly.

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Do you understand the meaning of 'day off'?"

"You never know," Steve says. Nat doesn't understand. She's a writer; she can take days off whenever she wants to. Steve has an actual day job, which means he has to be on call. In case something happens.

It's not that he doesn't like baseball games. He loves them. But in his heart he's always been a Mets fan, and the Nationals are losing 5-0 in the third inning. It's not exactly the most uplifting game to be at. Clearly, the sparsely populated seats agree.

Nat makes a snatch at his phone and nearly nicks it. "Seriously, Rogers," she says. "You're such a killjoy."

Steve sighs enormously and turns off his phone. "Okay. Fine. I'm watching. Look, I'm paying attention."

"And he returns to the land of the living," Sam says, applauding. Steve mimes a bow. Nat crunches on another peanut. This time, she tosses the shell underfoot.

"That's a bad habit," Steve says. "Someone has to clean that up, you know."

Nat shrugs. "They're getting paid for something."

Steve isn't exactly sure that logic is sound, but whatever. He can't stop her.

For a few minutes, he actually watches the game. The five-run dip in performance ability from before seems to have leveled out, at least. The Nationals are playing fine, and so are the White Sox. Steve tugs at the collar of his Nationals t-shirt. It's tight on him, but the print of rainbow on the word "Nationals" emblazoned across the chest had him sold when he bought the tickets. It's a Night Out at the park, for Pride Month. May as well let everyone know he plays for both teams. 

Nat and Sam are both wearing matching t-shirts. The three of them look like the three gay stooges. That thought makes Steve snicker.

Nat makes a vague cheer towards the field. Sam hoots. "I always wonder if they hear us," Sam says. "If I were them I don't know how I could focus with all this yelling."

"Well, you probably learn to tune it out," Steve says.

Sam shrugs. "OKAY RENDON!" he bellows, cupping his hands around his mouth. Steve buries his face in his hands.

"Excuse me?" an unfamiliar voice says. Steve picks up his head and looks at a man wearing the same shirt as him and holding a microphone. "Would you be interested in playing music mash-up during the inning break?"

Steve blinks. "Me?"

"Yeah," the guy says brightly. "Is this your first Nats game? I can find someone else, if you —"

"No, he'll definitely do it," Nat pipes up, smiling wolfishly. Steve hears _revenge_ in every word. "He's a huge Nats fan. He's always wanted to be on one of the jumbotron games."

"Yeah," Steve says in a slightly strangled tone. "Absolutely."

The man grins. "Awesome! So if you'll just follow me, it's gonna be in about three minutes." And he turns and walks back down the aisle. 

Steve whips around and fixes Natasha with a glare. Natasha smiles sweetly. "I will get you back for this," he promises.

"Aw, you don't have to," Nat says. She pats his cheek. "Go! We'll be watching."

"And filming," Sam adds. His phone is already up and poised to video.

God damn it.

Steve rolls his eyes and follows the microphone man.

* * *

People are flitting around the entrance to the stadium when Steve and microphone man (who introduces himself as "Adam") roll up to the camera crew. It's really just one lady with a big camera machine, but it's already more than Steve's ever been on in, oh, his entire life, give or take. 

"Okay, amazing," Adam says when they draw to a stop before the camera. Another man is standing there too, shifting on his feet. The rainbow-colored Nationals shirt is stretched across his chest, too, and he's got a prosthetic arm, and brown hair tied back in a bun. He looks about as comfortable as Steve feels. "So when the inning ends, we're going to roll. Did I catch your name?" Adam adds, with a glance at Steve.

"Steve Rogers," Steve says. He holds out a hand, and Adam shakes it.

"Great, great. Steve, this is James Barnes."

"Hey," James says, smiling at him. As soon as he smiles, he looks more relaxed. Steve offers his hand, and James shakes it as well.

"Nice to meet you," he says. Are straight people legally allowed to wear to Pride Nats shirts? Steve is pretty sure they're not. Which means this very attractive man is a very attractive man who swings his way.

And is hopefully single, although based on his, well, entire self, that seems vastly unlikely.

Adam walks the two of them through the rules of the game. It's simple enough. Snippets of three songs will be played over the loudspeaker, and whichever one of them can name the most artists first wins...two beers, apparently.

A woman standing behind them holds up the two promised Coors Lights and affords them both a dry grin. Steve finds that refreshing.

"Understand?" Adam asks, once he's gone over everything.

Steve understands. He's pretty sure he'll suck at this game — identifying musicians has never _ever_ been his forte — but he gets it. He nods. So does James. "Super. I'll be right back. Stay here. We'll roll in a minute or two!" And he backtracks his way away from them.

Steve chuckles. "I just want you to know that I'm going to do very poorly at this game," he tells James.

James laughs. "You think you're gonna be bad? I can't even name the singers of the music I own. The most contemporary band I listen to is Rush."

Steve laughs. He thinks he hears a hint of an accent woven in James's voice. "Are you from around here?" he asks.

James shrugs. "It's complicated. Born and raised in Brooklyn, but now I live here. Does that mean I'm from here? I dunno."

"Brooklyn!" Steve echoes, surprised. "So was I. Born and raised, I mean."

"It's a popular place," James says, deadpan.

"So's D.C.," Steve says. "I've always been a Mets fan, though."

"Yankees," James says under his breath.

Steve scoffs. "Yankees? Seriously? The Yankees are terrible."

"The Yankees are underappreciated," James deflects. "The Mets are overstated."

Steve snorts. "Of course I meet the one other Brooklyn-born guy at Nats Park and he's a Yankees fan."

"The Mets can eat it," James says, looking very serious.

"We'll see how well the Yankees fare. You're going down, Barnes," Steve says.

"Oh, so that's how it is?"

"Against a Yankees fan? Absolutely."

"Fine. You're on, Rogers."

Adam chooses that ideal moment to return. "Alright, gentlemen!" he says brightly. "We ready?" It doesn't really matter if they're ready, because before Steve can open his mouth Adam is counting down from five.

"And...hey hey hey, Nats Park, I'm Adam and we're here with another short game with a couple of Nats fans. This is Steve." 

He puts the microphone under Steve's mouth, and Steve genially says, "Hi."

"...And this is James," Adam continues, swiveling the microphone over to James.

James waves at the camera. "Hello," he says gruffly.

"And we're going to play a little game called Music Mash-Up."

Steve is glad the game has already been explained to him, because Adam is racing through the explanation this time like he's on a timer. He probably is, but still. Damn.

"Alright, are we ready, guys?" Adam glances at both of them, apparently soliciting an answer this time. Steve nods. So does James. In his mind's eye, Steve can just _see_ Nat and Sam cackling over this.

He'll put salt in their coffee later. It'll be fine. 

"Okay, let's hear the songs!" Adam pulls the mic away from his face. Over the loudspeaker, a clip of a song begins to play.

It's only a moment before Steve realizes with absolute _astonishment_ that he knows the song. It's Madonna. Madonna! There's one. He glances at James, but the man's face reveals nothing. Steve tries to keep his features neutral.

The music transitions with relative smoothness into song #2. Steve listens carefully. It has more of a beat. Maybe he knows it from somewhere, though — the singer's voice is familiar…

Just as the song switches once more, Steve snags on the artist's name: Halsey. She's on the radio station that Nat makes them listen to.

He listens eagerly for the third song. He actually might win this. He doesn't care about the beers, but the bragging rights, maybe.

James is still unreadable. Steve tries to ignore that. He strains his ears against the third song.

With a start, he realizes this is a song he knows well. And he has Sam to thank: it's Marvin Gaye's _Ain't No Mountain High Enough._ He's heard this song way too many times to count. Today, though, it's saving his pride. He grins triumphantly.

The music cuts off, and Adam barely has time to say, "Okay, do either of you want to guess?" when Steve chimes in.

"I do!" he says quickly. James raises an eyebrow. _Ha._

"Okay, Steve, let's hear it." Adam puts the mic before Steve's face, and Steve talks into it.

"The first song was Madonna, the second was Halsey, and the third was Marvin Gaye," he says. For a second he holds his breath.

Then the stadium erupts into applause, Adam says, "That's correct! These two beers are yours, my friend!", and the lady from behind them steps forth and proffers the two beers to him.

Steve really isn't a fan of being televised. Still, having a whole stadium applaud for you? That's kind of awesome.

"Thanks," he says good-naturedly. He smiles at the woman, and then lifts a hand in farewell to Adam, who's already whisking himself away. "Thanks. Nice to meet you!"

James is still standing there, arms crossed. "Alright, Steve. You beat me by a second."

Steve laughs. "I had you on the ropes. Don't tell me you knew all three?"

James's mouth opens and closes like a fish. "I...did not," he concedes. He unfolds his arms and raises his hand to wave. "Well. Nice to meet you, Mets."

Before he can stop himself, Steve says, "Hey — James. I don't…" he glances at the pair of beer cans, then up at James, and says, "Do you want to get a drink? I mean, have a drink? I mean — Jesus. I don't even like beer. Here." He holds out one of the beer cans, fully aware that he is growing more tongue-tied by the second.

James squints. He slowly reaches out for the beer. "Okay?"

"I'm asking you out," Steve finally says, slowly. "On a date. And also offering you this beer, because I don't need both, and you oughta get it just for subjecting yourself to that nonsense." 

Steve hasn't asked someone out in _years_ , and he's not even sure if he's just done it right. James is still staring analytically at him. Belatedly, Steve remembers it's entirely likely James is taken. 

"Okay," James says at length. "You can call me Bucky."

"What?"

"It's a nickname," James — Bucky — explains. "Professionally, I'm James, but everywhere else I'm Bucky. So."

"Sure," Steve says. "Well...great. Bucky. You, uh," he glances back, "wanna come sit with me and my buddies? I'm sure they wouldn't mind, and there's a ton of empty space around us."

Bucky grins. It has the same effect as before; it lights up his whole face, loosens his posture. Steve wants to photograph it. "Yeah, why not," he says. "Cute guy asks you to sit with him, can't say no."

Steve blushes down to his toes. "Um," he says.

James snickers. "I'm messing with you. Kind of."

Steve musters up the courage to retaliate with, "Takes one to know one."

"What, a joker?"

"A cute guy."

"Ooh, sappy." Bucky's blushing. Steve can totally see it. He smiles victoriously.

* * *

Sam and Nat have twin smiles of pure mischief on their faces when Steve returns to the seats. Those smiles only expand when they both simultaneously realize the man joining their group is James from the jumbotron.

"You _didn't,_ " Sam says in delighted disbelief.

"Ask me out as soon as the cameras quit rolling?" Bucky offers. "Yeah, he did."

"Wh- Bucky!"

"Steven Grant Rogers," Natasha announces loudly, in a voice full of false tremors and fake tears, "I am _so proud_ right now. You don't even know."

"Shut up," Steve says, shoving her. Nat blinks innocently at him. She can act all innocent and clueless, but Steve sees her surreptitiously remove five bucks from Sam's begrudging palm.

Of course Natasha bet on this outcome.

"Hi," Nat says to Bucky. "I'm Natasha, Steve's best friend, life advisor, and bully."

"And I'm Sam Wilson," Sam adds, "Steve's other best friend and occasional therapist slash grandmother."

"Seems like the only position that's not filled is 'boyfriend'," Bucky says easily.

Steve buries his face in his hands as Nat and Sam crack up.

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory come say hey on tumblr [@vivilevone](http://vivilevone.tumblr.com/) im very nice and want to be friends probably ALSO if you enjoyed it i would not say no to a comment because as everyone knows writers thrive on comments that is all okay byeeee


End file.
